


The Muttering Retreats

by 27dragons



Series: The Love Song of J. Buchanan Barnes [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Bathing/Washing, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sub Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3382733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve turned the cup over in his hands. "What's your color, Buck?"</p>
<p>Bucky gave him an incredulous look. "What kind of stupid-ass question is that?" he demanded.</p>
<p>Steve just raised an eyebrow. "Color?"</p>
<p>"Green," Bucky snorted, "like it could be anything else when you haven't <em>done</em> anythi-- Ow!" Startled, he curled his metal hand protectively over his flesh arm, covering the spot Steve had just pinched. "What'd you do that for?"</p>
<p>Steve smiled thinly. "Because you're green and complaining about your orders," he said. "We made these rules, remember? If you have a real question, then ask. If my orders make you feel unhappy or unsafe, use a safeword. But if you're still green, then you're just bitching, and I will punish that however I see fit. Are we clear?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Muttering Retreats

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place the day after [Decisions and Revisions](http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/7274984).

Steve came back from his own workout the next day to find Bucky sitting on the floor in the living room, arms wrapped around his knees and his face hidden in the crook of his flesh elbow. Concern edging toward fear, Steve knelt next to him, not quite daring to touch, not yet. "Bucky? What's wrong?"

Bucky drew a harsh breath, but didn't move or speak.

"Hey. You in there, Buck?"

Bucky hesitated, then nodded shortly.

Steve bit his lip, wanting to reach across the small space between them. Sometimes Bucky wanted contact, and sometimes it made him withdraw further, or even turn violent. _Clear communication_ , he reminded himself. "Can I touch you?" he asked.

The nod came more quickly this time, almost immediately. Steve put his hand on Bucky's nearer shoulder, then slid it slowly across the curved plane of Bucky's back to the other shoulder. Bucky's posture softened as he let himself be pulled into a gentle hug, resting his head against Steve's chest. "Did something happen?" Steve asked.

Bucky shook his head, then stopped and shrugged. "Don't know," he rasped, keeping his face pressed into Steve's shirt. "Yes. No. Maybe."

Steve snorted. "Well, that about covers all the bases," he said, gently teasing. "Hey, look at me."

Bucky lifted his head obediently. His eyes were swollen and puffy from crying, his lips pressed tight. Steve wiped at the tear tracks with his thumb. "You seemed okay when I left. Is this turning into a bad day, or is it just a temporary setback?"

Bucky looked away, his face crumpling in dismay. "I don't _know_."

"Hey, it's okay." Steve tightened his arm around Bucky's shoulders. "It's okay not to know. It's okay to be upset and not know why. Doc Tranh said, remember?" He dropped a light kiss on Bucky's forehead and pulled Bucky back into the hug. "It's okay. How long have you been sitting here like this?"

Bucky tried a half-hearted shrug. "Dunno. A while. Hour?"

"Ah, geez. You could've called me. I would've come home."

Bucky shook his head vehemently. "No. No. Bad enough I'm so broken. Don't want to ruin your good time."

"Dammit," Steve said, "it's not a good time if I come home to find you _needed_ me and I wasn't here for you!" Bucky shivered and Steve sighed. "Sorry, that wasn't-- I worry about you, Buck." He kissed the top of Bucky's hair. "Do you know what set it off?"

Bucky unwrapped his arm and wrapped it around Steve's torso, holding him almost too tight. "Not sure," he said. He was speaking slowly, but the shivering panic was beginning to fade. "Was thinking about... dinner, about going to dinner tonight and seeing everyone and. And I thought I should get all dolled up. Special occasion, right?"

"Sure," Steve agreed. He didn't think any of the others would care one way or another, really, but the old Bucky had always liked looking his best when he went out, so Steve was happy to indulge the impulse.

"Then I thought, should prob'ly shower and shave, if I'm going to the effort, and. And it just... I don't know _why_ , but it set off this whole..." Bucky shivered. "I don't know why. I've been doing that stuff just fine for months now!"

For some definition of "just fine," anyway, Steve privately amended. Bucky insisted on showers that were scalding hot and wouldn't shave unless he was completely alone in the apartment, but he'd managed them to a certain degree. "Dr. Tranh said stuff was likely to come back up on you," Steve reminded him. "Things you think are settled will just pop back up with no warning."

Bucky nodded tiredly against Steve's shoulder. "I just. I wish I knew why."

"I know," Steve soothed. "We can cancel tonight."

"No!" Bucky said, jerking in shock. "No, Stevie, you _love_ those stupid group dinners. Don't you dare!"

"All right, all right," Steve said, a hint of amusement threading through his worry. "Should _you_ cancel? They'd understand if you weren't up to a big group. And _don't_ say you want to go just because you think it's what I want."

"Uhn." Bucky fidgeted a little, thinking. "I don't think it's the number of people that's bothering me. I want to go. I think I do. I don't think that's what set me off."

"Okay," Steve said, nuzzling at Bucky's hair again. It really did need to be washed; Bucky hadn't done more the previous day than sluice off the workout sweat. And Steve hadn't rinsed off from his own workout yet, either. "Well, come on, then, let's go get cleaned up." He carefully pushed Bucky upright and rose to his feet.

Bucky looked uncertainly at the hand Steve offered him. "You go ahead, and I'll--"

"Wasn't a suggestion," Steve said, letting a hint of steel thread through his words. "On your feet."

Bucky's eyes widened, but he grabbed Steve's wrist and let Steve pull him upright. He followed docilely as Steve led him into the bathroom. "Whatever it was that set you off," Steve said, "you still need to get clean. So I'm going to take care of it, and you don't have to worry about a thing." He sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the water, almost as hot as it could go. "You have a preference for shower or bath?"

Bucky looked from Steve up at the shower nozzle. His pupils contracted and his lips pressed together again. "Bath," he said decisively.

"Bath it is," Steve agreed. He reached down and plugged the drain. "Get undressed."

Bucky pulled his shirt off, then paused with his thumbs hooked in the waistband of his trousers. "Uh. All of 'em?"

Steve tried not to smile. He probably wasn't terribly successful. "Whatever you're comfortable with. We're not having sex, either way."

"Can't blame a fella for trying," Bucky said as he finished stripping, and if his cheeky grin was still slightly strained, Steve wasn't going to mention it.

"I could, actually, if I wanted to," Steve said. He watched that sink in -- Bucky drew a sharp breath when he'd figured it out -- and then pointed at the tub. "Get in."

Bucky obeyed, hissing slightly as the water lapped over his skin.

"Did I make it too hot?"

"No, 's perfect," Bucky said. "Just takes a little bit to adjust, is all."

Steve bit down on the assertion that if it took time to adjust to it, then it was too hot -- he knew why Bucky liked the scalding water. Instead, he grabbed the cup off the sink and used it to pour water over Bucky's shoulders and back. Bucky twitched at first, then loosened a little as the room began to fill with steam. He scooped up handfuls of water and splashed them onto his chest.

"Stop that," Steve said. "Just sit still and let me take care of you."

"What kind of lame orders are these, anyway?" Bucky said, though he dropped his hands to float over his knees.

Steve turned the cup over in his hands. "What's your color, Buck?"

Bucky gave him an incredulous look. "What kind of stupid-ass question is that?" he demanded.

Steve just raised an eyebrow. "Color?"

"Green," Bucky snorted, "like it could be anything else when you haven't _done_ anythi-- _Ow_!" Startled, he curled his metal hand protectively over his flesh arm, covering the spot Steve had just pinched. "What'd you do that for?"

Steve smiled thinly. "Because you're green and complaining about your orders," he said. "We made these rules, remember? If you have a real question, then ask. If my orders make you feel unhappy or unsafe, use a safeword. But if you're still green, then you're just bitching, and I will punish that however I see fit. Are we clear?"

Bucky's eyes were wide and his pupils dilating. "Clear, sir," he whispered.

Steve leaned in to kiss Bucky's temple. "Good boy," he said. "Now tip your head back so I can wash your hair." He resumed pouring water over Bucky's hair, pretending not to notice the way Bucky's cock was swelling, twitching and bobbing in the water whenever Steve's hands stroked over Bucky's hair.

He reached for the shampoo, working it into Bucky's hair until it was a rich lather, massaging it right down to the scalp and gently working out tangles. Bucky leaned into his touch, eyes at half-mast and all but purring like a cat, so Steve took his time, loving the way the tension slowly melted from Bucky's frame. "God, Buck, you're so beautiful like this," Steve said.

Bucky shuddered a little, but didn't respond. Steve picked up the cup again and began carefully pouring it over Bucky's hair, rinsing out the shampoo. "I love it when you relax in my hands," Steve continued. "The way you trust me to take care of you." He poured out another cup, using his fingers to work the water into Bucky's hair. "I know these aren't the orders you were expecting, or hoping for. We're gonna get there. But I want you to stop fighting me about it and trust me. Can you do that, Bucky?"

"Trust you with m' life," Bucky mumbled drowsily, his eyes now entirely closed. "Sorry I'm so miserable, Stevie."

"You're doing fine," Steve said. He put the cup away and picked up the soap, massaging the lather into Bucky's shoulders and back. "Think I don't remember that you've always been a boundary-pushing jerk?"

Bucky's lips twitched toward a grin, but he didn't otherwise move. "Only way to keep up with you, punk." He moaned with pleasure when Steve's thumbs dug into his tight muscles. "Still feels... backwards, though. Like it oughta be me doing this for you."

Steve didn't have the heart to pinch Bucky again and disturb that beautiful relaxation, but he made his voice low and stern. "Stop that. I'm giving the orders, and this is what I want."

"I was just _sayin_ '," Bucky protested.

Steve scrubbed the soap over Bucky's chest, and even though he did his best to keep the touch impersonal, his hands sliding over Bucky's nipples still elicited a sharp breath.

Bucky bit his lip and didn't say anything or try to get Steve to repeat the touch, though. "Doing so well," Steve praised, and kissed his shoulder, smiling at the soft smile that curved Bucky's lips. "Maybe when you're all done, we'll swap places."

"Yeah?" Bucky cracked one eye to look at Steve. "I'd like that."

"Keep being good, then," Steve said.

"You're makin' it easy," Bucky said, closing his eye again and sighing happily. "Ain't complaining, but it feels like cheatin'."

Steve reached down into the water to soap Bucky's legs and massage his feet. "Things should get to be easy sometimes." Bucky hissed and tensed when Steve's hands squeezed a sore spot, but before Steve could react, Bucky all but melted.

"Oh, _god_ ," he groaned, "you keep that up an' I'll do anything you say."

"You're gonna do that anyway," Steve responded, unable to keep the grin out of his voice.

"Yeah, but this way you keep rubbing my feet."

"Jerk," Steve laughed. "Kneel up so I can get your bottom."

Bucky obeyed quickly, but his mouth twisted. "Stevie, if you're gonna--"

"I've seen your wood before, Bucky, I'm not going to faint."

"I know, I mean. You said no sex, and I swear I'm tryin' not to push it, but I'm a little worked up, here." Bucky kept his eyes low, on the edge of the tub in front of him.

Steve felt his eyebrows trying to climb toward his hairline. "You so worked up you're going to pop from a quick scrub?"

Bucky worried at his lip with his teeth. "Maybe."

It was on the tip of Steve's tongue to offer to leave so Bucky could take care of it, but he looked at the red flush on Bucky's neck and it made heat burst in Steve's stomach. "Hey, Buck?"

"Yeah?"

Steve leaned close so his breath would tickle Bucky's ear and neck, and growled in his most firm battle tones. "Don't. Come."

Bucky glanced up at Steve and let a faint whimper escape his teeth. "Steve, _god_."

"Brace your hands on the wall if you need to," Steve said, switching back to an easy conversational tone just to throw Bucky off-balance a bit. He didn't wait for Bucky to react before sliding his wet, soapy hands over Bucky's ass and hips. He considered teasing Bucky's crack, but he hadn't wanted this to be about sex, after all, so he kept his touch as smooth and impersonal as he could manage.

Still, when Steve reached between Bucky's legs to lather his balls, Bucky slapped his hands on the wall with a curse. Steve smiled and stroked the soap up Bucky's cock -- no way to keep that from feeling erotic, but Steve kept it quick -- he didn't want to make it an  _impossible_  order to obey, not at this stage. He rinsed the soap off his hands, then, and pulled back Bucky's foreskin to rinse underneath. Bucky's right hand curled into a fist against the wall and he whined. "Steve, you're killin' me."

"You just said it was too easy," Steve said, trying for a light tone to mask his own arousal. He might have to reconsider this whole "going slow" notion.

"I take it back," Bucky hissed. "Easy's good, let's go back to easy."

"Too late. Maybe next time you'll think twice before you start bitching about nothing."

Bucky closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," he said, and his voice was rough.

Steve bit his lip, watching Bucky worriedly. He'd said no sex; was it fair of him to use Bucky's arousal against him like this? "What's your color, Buck?"

"Green, Steve," Bucky breathed. "God. So, so green."

"You're not going to change my mind by acting desperate, you know."

Bucky nodded. "Your command," he said hoarsely. His eyes were still closed, his head bowed between the arms that were still propped on the wall.

He was _beautiful_ , Steve thought, teetering on the edge of full surrender. It was breathtaking, and humbling. Steve ached to lead him over that edge.

"That's right," he said softly. "You're under my command." He put his hand on Bucky's flesh arm, hoping the touch would be grounding and reassuring. "You're mine to command."

Bucky could have been a statue, he was so still, his breath all but held. "I've got you," Steve said, rubbing Bucky's skin lightly with his thumb. "You can let go. I'll catch you. I'm going to give you your orders, and I'm going to take care of you, because no matter what happens, you're _mine_ ," Steve said, quiet but firm, and Bucky let out a soft moan. He shivered and then seemed to sag, and then he was breathing again, fast with arousal but smooth and shallow.

"Oh, Bucky," Steve sighed. "Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are like this?"

Bucky shook his head. "No," he said, calm now. "I don't know, I... Do you like it?"

"I do," Steve said. "I love it. I love you."

Bucky's breath caught, just a soft hitch, and then he sighed it out again. "Love you, too, Steve." He paused, then leaned his forehead against his outstretched arm, near Steve's hand. "Yours?"

"Forever," Steve promised, and slid his fingers onto Bucky's head, working through the wet locks to rub gently at the base of Bucky's neck. "You're mine, and I'm yours, always. Didn't you know that?"

"I thought..." Bucky's breath hitched again, and Steve waited, still rubbing soothingly at Bucky's neck. "Don't deserve you," Bucky finally whispered. "Things I did--"

"That was Hydra," Steve said firmly. "They made you do those things. It wasn't you."

Bucky shook his head. "Before Hydra," he said. "Before the war, even. Stole, lied, cheated. Woulda done anything for you. Woulda sold my soul to the Devil himself if it'd only meant you'd smile at me and kiss me sweet, Stevie, and I never did deserve so much as the toe of your shoes."

"Bucky," Steve said, because what else could he say to that? He slid his arm down, wrapping it around Bucky's shoulders, and realized that Bucky was shivering, trembling minutely, bone-deep. "Bucky, you're freezing."

"Ain't cold," Bucky said. "Just scared."

"Scared of what, Bucky?"

Bucky shook his head. "Can't say it."

"Buck."

Bucky shook his head again, more violently. " _Can't_ ," he stressed, his tone spiraling up into something like panic.

"All right," Steve said, wanting to kick himself for disrupting Bucky's sense of peace so quickly. "All right, I've got you, it's okay. You don't have to say. Doesn't matter, except that I want to help if I can. You know I'd do anything for you, too."

"Nah," Bucky said. "Nah, don't say that, Stevie, you're not... Just. Just tell me I'm yours again? Tell me I'm yours, and I'm not gonna fall again."

Steve kissed the top of Bucky's head and held him tighter. "You're mine," he said. "Mine, and I love you, and I am never, _never_ letting you go again."

Bucky drew a ragged breath, then another, and then nodded. "Yours," he whispered.

Steve held Bucky for another long moment. The shivering didn't stop, but it did lessen a bit. Steve figured that was the best he could expect for now. "Can you straighten up?" he asked carefully. "We need to rinse you off and get you out of the water."

Slowly, Bucky straightened, dropping his arms from the wall and sitting back on his heels. His erection had softened, but not gone down entirely.

Steve kept one hand on Bucky's shoulder, not wanting to break contact even for a moment, and picked up the cup with the other to rinse the last of the soap from Bucky's skin. Bucky sat calmly through it, moving as Steve directed. He kept his eyes closed until he was standing and Steve was helping him out of the draining tub.

He reached for a towel, but Steve stopped him. "Let me do it." Bucky didn't protest this time, just nodded and stood still, his arms held out slightly from his sides while Steve rubbed him down and squeezed the excess water from his hair. Finished, Steve wrapped the towel around Bucky's hips. It was harder to do for someone else than Steve had guessed it would be, and looked slightly ridiculous with Bucky's erection tenting the front.

Steve cupped Bucky's face in his hands, tipping his head up until Bucky looked into Steve's eyes. "What's your color, Buck?"

"Green," Bucky said, and his expression was calm, finally, his pupils wide. If he was hurting or anxious or trying to anticipate Steve's next order, none of it showed.

Steve smiled and kissed Bucky's lips softly. Bucky's eyes fell closed again, and when Steve pulled back, the slightest hint of a smile curved his mouth.

"Good," Steve said, and Bucky swayed toward him a bit, but otherwise didn't move. "You've been so good for me. So I'm going to give you a choice." They'd talked a long time about Bucky's newly-found and complicated appreciation for making his own decisions, and Steve's fear that giving orders would disrupt Bucky's sense of autonomy before arriving at rules they could agree on.

Bucky's eyes opened, but he just looked at Steve, waiting, so Steve continued, "I still need to get cleaned up, myself. You can go back to your room while I do that, take care of yourself before you get dressed." Steve gestured at the tent of Bucky's towel, smiling wryly. "Or you can stay in here and help me like I helped you."

"Stay," Bucky said quickly. "I'll stay."

"Are you sure? If you stay, you're not getting any relief."

"I'd rather be with you."

Steve rewarded that with another kiss, feeling dimly guilty that he was probably compounding Bucky's problem -- not to mention his own -- but unable to resist. "So good to me," he sighed. "God, Buck, I'm the one who doesn't deserve _you_."

Steve started the water again, this time slightly less searing, then straightened. Bucky was watching him, less calm now but still easy, eyes bright and just barely crinkling with the start of a smile. "Undress me."

With no change of expression, Bucky's hands closed around Steve's waist, working up under the hem of his shirt -- the metal hand, retaining the heat of Bucky's bath, was warmer than the flesh one -- and then tugging it up. Steve raised his arms so Bucky could pull the shirt over his head and then drop it on the floor. Bucky's lips curved into a smirk. "You gotta stop letting Natasha buy your workout gear, pal. They do actually make this stuff in your size, you know that, right?"

Steve grinned back. "What if I like the way you can't stop watching me when I'm in it?"

Bucky snorted. "You are a menace, Rogers." Before Steve could respond to that, he dropped to one knee to untie Steve's shoes, tapping each ankle in turn to hint Steve to lift that foot so he could ease the shoe and sock off.

Steve was mildly embarrassed about the sweaty socks -- it seemed somehow unfair to make Bucky handle them -- but Bucky didn't seem to mind, didn't even joke about it. He set the shoes neatly to the side and dropped the socks on top of the shirt, then turned back to Steve, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of Steve's sweatpants and boxers and looking up coyly.

Steve's heart started to race. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to say... He had no idea what, but something. Bucky just chuckled and tugged the elastic over his hips, easing it carefully past Steve's erection. "Were you gonna jerk off in the shower if I'd taken the other option?" Bucky asked.

"Probably," Steve admitted. "I'm not going slow because I don't _want_ to."

"I know," Bucky said, sighing as he tossed the pants onto the shirt and socks. "I can still wish it was going a little faster."

"Wish all you want," Steve said. He stepped into the tub and settled while Bucky shuffled closer. "While you're wishing, you can start with my hair." He grinned and leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes and tipping his head back to keep the water from his face.

The warm water felt good on his head and lapping against his legs. Bucky's hands, carefully massaging his scalp, felt even better. Steve felt muscles in his neck and face relax that he hadn't realized were tense. "That feels wonderful," he said, half-groaning. "Just so... good."

Bucky chuckled a little. "Yeah, it does. Ready to rinse?"

Steve wanted it to go on for at least another hour, but that was probably unrealistic to ask of Bucky, and besides, the water would get cold. "Guess so."

Bucky must have picked up on Steve's reluctance, though, because he took his time with the rinsing, carding his fingers through Steve's short hair to make sure all the soap was gone. Then his hand was between Steve's shoulder blades, gently pushing. "Come on, sit up for me," he said. "No, don't get all tensed up again. Just sit up and let me take care of you now."

Steve shook his head in protest. He was supposed to be taking care of Bucky, supposed to be giving him the orders he needed to feel stable and safe. If he was giving the orders, he couldn't just-- "Shhh, Stevie, you don't have to talk yet. Just relax and let me do this for you." Steve let Bucky's hands coax him into stillness, sliding over his skin, pressing deep into the knots of muscle until they shivered and unraveled.

Bucky talked as he worked, a soft-voiced and meaningless patter of affectionate rambling, warm and familiar enough to sink into Steve's very bones. By the time he was urging Steve to kneel up, Steve was feeling sleepy and half-drunk. Bucky avoided Steve's groin, saying something about not wanting Steve to think he was trying to start something he wasn't supposed to.

Steve thought muzzily that it wouldn't have mattered; he was still aroused but it wasn't urgent, just a distant, lazy sort of tension under his skin, far less important than the touch of Bucky's hands on his arms and back as they helped him out of the tub.

He thought he understood, now, why Bucky had chosen to stay. Steve would make the same choice, if it was offered to him now, and it was nice, knowing -- _feeling_ \-- that he hadn't messed it up.

Bucky wrapped a towel around Steve's hips -- he was better at it than Steve had been, which seemed unfair -- and then put his hands on Steve's shoulders, tipping his head to catch Steve's attention. "You with me?"

Steve blinked slowly. He looked down at himself, and then back up at Bucky. "All done?"

Bucky grinned. "Yeah, Steve. You okay?"

Steve nodded. "I'm fine, just a little..." He blinked. His voice was a little thick from disuse. Shit, he'd forgotten to check in, he'd forgotten about reinforcing and reassuring, he'd forgotten _everything_. He was supposed to be the one in charge, and he'd screwed it up _completely_.

"Hey!" Bucky looked worried. "Steve, Stevie, you just completely tensed up again all over! What's wrong, what happened?"

Steve dragged in a deep breath, shaking off the last of the pleasant, sleepy lassitude. "God, Buck, I'm sorry, I forgot to take care of you, I'm _sorry_ \--"

"Whoa, hey, stop!" Bucky put his hand over Steve's mouth. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Steve forced himself to slow down and assess the situation. "You're okay?"

"Me? You're the one freaking out!" Bucky wrapped his fingers around Steve's neck and tugged until their foreheads touched. "What the hell, Stevie?"

Steve took another breath and let it out in a huff. "I just... I'm supposed to give you orders, and then I just sort of checked out on you, and." He swallowed around the lump in his throat.

"Is that all? Hey, I was _following_ orders, right? Getting you cleaned up? Those were my orders, I didn't need any new ones, it was fine."

Steve pulled back to look at Bucky again, critically. "Promise? You're doing okay?"

Bucky spread his hands. "I'm fine. Green as grass. I liked it. It was nice. You don't relax enough."

Steve sputtered out a startled laugh. "Pot calling the kettle," he said, half-accusing.

Bucky grinned. "Guilty as charged." He leaned up to kiss Steve's cheek. "I'm glad you want to take good care of me, Stevie, but jeez-louise, next time you could maybe wait to tense up at least until you've got clothes on?"

Steve smiled sheepishly at Bucky's tone. "We'll see," he hedged. "Next time it might--" He broke off with an enormous yawn. "Nn. Still sleepy. You have anything you need to do before dinner?"

Bucky frowned in momentary concentration. "Take my meds, but that'll be just before we go. And probably, at some point, get dressed." He smirked. "Not that the others wouldn't appreciate the look."

Steve managed a tired chuckle. "Okay. Fresh orders, then. We're taking a nap." He laced his fingers with Bucky's and pulled him out of the bathroom and toward his bedroom.

"Aw, do I hafta?" Bucky whined playfully, even though Steve's yawn appeared to be contagious.

"Yep. You're my new favorite teddy bear." Steve rumpled the blankets enough to crawl under them, still pulling Bucky after him.

Bucky snuggled close willingly enough, squirming a bit to find a comfortable position. "Slave driver," he mumbled unconvincingly.

Steve, already two-thirds asleep, didn't bother to respond.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [everyworldneedslove](http://everyworldneedslove.tumblr.com)!


End file.
